Starkasm
by PlushChrome
Summary: Sometimes, annoying your team mates is just too easy. Started as a one-shot, will be a small series instead. Slight Pepperony, Tonycentric with appearences from the rest of the team and Pepper.
1. Vocabulary

"Tony!" Steve called, walking into the lab where Tony and Bruce were speaking "English."

They looked up when he came in, and Tony leaned up against the console.

"Yeah, Capsicle?" He said. "What's up?"

Steve decided to ignore the nickname and got straight to the point.

"Fury wants to know why you haven't turned in your paperwork yet."

"I turned it in yesterday," Tony said. "What's he talking about?"

"Yesterday, you turned in your paperwork for last July," Steve said. "He wants to know about the paperwork for every mission since then."

"Oh, that," Tony said with a wave of his hand as he turned back to what he'd been working on. "Meh, I'll get around to it eventually. Better yet, I'll have Pepper fill it out for me."

"You know what Fury said," Steve warned. "You have to fill it out yourself. He wants to hear what happened straight from your mouth."

"My mouth? How am I supposed to do that on paper? That doesn't even make any sense, Cap."

He turned back to Steve and looked him in the eye, a serious expression on his face.

"How hard did you hit your head in that fight yesterday? You probably should get that checked out or something."

Steve took a deep breath to calm down the surge of annoyance he felt. He'd hit his head because Tony had left his post and one of the robots they were fighting managed to get through to Steve and get in a few punches before he was destroyed.

"Just get your paperwork done," Steve said, turning to leave.

"Where ya going?" Tony called after him. Steve glanced over his shoulder at Tony.

"Somewhere else," he said.

Tony frowned. "You're leaving?" He asked. "Why? Are you annoyed at my wit and Starkasm?"

Steve paused at the door and turned back to the scientist, looking at Tony with a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. "...Starkasm?" He said.

Tony nodded. "Starkasm," he said seriously. "It's like sarcasm only way, way more awesome."

"Starkasm isn't a word," Steve said.

"Now, see, there's where you're wrong," Tony explained, sitting down. "You've been in the ice for what, seventy years? A lot has changed since your time, Pops."

"I'm sorry, there's no way I'm believing that 'Starkasm' is a word, no matter what's changed," Steve said.

Tony shrugged. "Believe what you want," he said. "But it's totally a word."

"...No, it isn't."

"Yes it is."

"No, it's not!"

"Yes it is."

"Stark!"

"No no no, Stark_asm_. It's a word."

"Is not!"

"Is so."

"Are you really fighting with me about this?"

"Are you really fighting back?"

Steve paused, obviously losing whatever patience he had left. "I'm not... I don't... It's not a word!"

"Yes it is, it's in the dictionary."

"Oh come on, Stark, it's not in the dictionary!"

"And how do you know?" Tony said, raising his eyebrows. "Memorized the dictionary? I knew your serum-enhanced learning capabilities were good, but that, that is truly something else."

"I... no, I didn't memorize the dictionary! But I know Starkasm isn't in it!"

"Prove it," Tony challenged.

"Prove it!?" Steve exclaimed. "How would I... Do you expect me to carry a dictionary with me wherever I go?"

"Don't you?" Tony asked innocently. "Huh. Well, if we don't have any dictionaries around here, I guess we have no proof. So let's go with the opinion of the person who has the most experience in today's world. Let's see, I'm the world's leading scientist and richest business man, and you've been frozen since World War II. Starkasm is a word."

"I don't need a dictionary to know that no, Starkasm is not a word." Steve said.

"I have an idea! Let's ask Bruce!" Tony turned to Bruce, who was trying not to laugh. "What do you say, Brucey?" Tony asked him. "Is Starkasm a word? Tell the good Captain here how much he's missed over the years."

"Leave me out of this," Bruce said with a smile. "I'm just here for the lab equipment."

"There you have it," Tony said. "It's a word."

"But he didn't agree," Steve pointed out.

Tony shrugged. "He just didn't want to hurt your feelings," he said.

Steve rolled his eyes. "You're being a child, Stark."

Tony smirked. "_You're_ being a child, Cap."

"I'm not the one making up words."

"No, _I'm_ not the one making up words."

"Oh, come on, now you're just copying me!"

Tony bit back a scoff. Now it was just too easy. " Oh, come on, now you're just copying me!" He said.

"Stop it, Stark, I mean it."

"Stop it, Stark, I mean it."

"Tony..."

"Tony..."

"Will you grow up?"

"Will you grow up?"

Steve finally seemed to get that Tony was just going to repeat everything he said, and pursed his lips together to keep from saying anything. He glared at Tony, who stared at him for a second and then raised his eyebrows, daring him to say something else.

After a moment, Steve sighed.

"Look, Tony, just do your paperwork."

"Look, Tony, just do your paperwork."

"I... Gah! I give up!"

As Steve stomped out of the room, Tony walked after him.

"Starkasm!" He called after the Captain. "It's a word!"

After the door closed behind Steve, Tony turned back to Bruce, who had been watching the interaction amusedly.

"He thinks he's so right," Tony said, shaking his head.

Bruce chuckled. "You certainly know how to push his buttons," he admitted.

Tony smiled. "I know how to push _everybody's_ buttons," he said proudly. "It's a gift."

Bruce shook his head. "Yeah, well, be careful you don't push too hard," he warned. "We don't want him to hit you and send you through a wall."

"No kidding," Tony said, scoffing as he returned his attentions to his work. "You're not the only one on this team that turns into a giant rage monster. Yours is just a bit more green than the rest of us."

Bruce gave a small laugh. "Yeah, well, you know me," he said. "I'm all about the environment."

Tony gasped. "Is... is that a bit of Starkasm I hear!?"

Bruce laughed outright. "Yeah," he said. "You bet it is."


	2. Not Exactly Camping

Clint gave a sigh of contentment and leaned back in his recliner, probably the softest, most comfortable chair he'd ever been in.

The team was taking a well-deserved break from their lives, after an invasion they had thwarted the day before, Tony had insisted on flying the group out to Montana for what he called an "overnight camping trip," where he'd set them up in a massive log hunting lodge, complete with an indoor pool, private lake, nature hike and outdoor tennis court, all of which bore the name of Stark.

Right now, the group was relaxing in the common room, a large open area with teakwood floors, cream colored walls, rustic beams that supported the high ceilings, one wall that was entirely made of glass overlooking the lake nestled in the mountains, and a large stone fireplace housing a blazing fire.

"You know, I went camping once as a kid," Clint said. "It was really nothing like this."

Tony peered at the archer, but didn't lift his head from where it was resting on Pepper's shoulder.

"Yeah?" he asked in amusement. "Tell me, what made it so different?"

Clint gave a half-smile, missing the dangerous tone in his friend's voice. "Well, for one thing," he said. "We were in tents and sleeping bags, we went fishing, we made our own fires from scratch, we cooked our fish over the fire, we had smores... In fact, this whole setup you've got here, this isn't anything remotely similar to camping."

"Hmm," Tony said, nodding in agreement and frowning in thought. "Yeah, I see your point. Very well, I'll have a sleeping bag brought out to you and you can go have your little camping trip. Go sit by the lake for hours trying to get the fish to bite. Go start little fires, make yourself sick off marshmallows to your heart's content, I'll call the cook and let her know to prepare one less steak for dinner. Make sure you don't pick a stick of Poison Oak to skewer your food with. Gives it a nasty flavor."

Clint blinked, then let out a chuckle. "Very funny," he said. "I wasn't complaining."

Tony sighed. "Fine," he said. "But I'm only letting you off easy because I'm too comfortable to make a fuss."

"Fair enough," said Clint, who stretched out on his couch and closed his eyes.

They all sat in silence for awhile, simply letting themselves rest.

Eventually, Tony seemed to have had enough quiet and sat up. "Okay," he said, standing up and stretching. "I'm done with this whole 'resting' thing. I'm gonna go check out the bedrooms, make sure they're all ready for use."

Clint opened his eyes when Tony was gone. "He's not going to let me get off that easy, is he?" He asked. Bruce chuckled and Pepper shook her head with a smile.

"Not if I know Tony," she said. "He probably won't do anything dangerous, but watch your back for petty tricks. He's got a mischievous side to him."

Clint nodded. "Alright," he said. "I can handle anything he throws my way."

"Mr. Stark wants me to inform you that he accepts your challenge," They heard over a loudspeaker. Clint groaned. "I forgot about JARVIS," he said.

* * *

As they all sat down to dinner, Clint noticed that there was something... different about his food. The main difference being that while everyone else had steak, mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables, he had... overcooked fish.

"Sorry about your fish being a little bit burnt," Tony said, sitting down to his steak dinner. "I'm afraid Sophie isn't used to cooking in the fireplace. But if you find it's a little bland, you can wash it down with this."

Tony tossed a water bottle over to Clint, who caught in on instinct.

Clint pursed his lips, determined to ignore the billionaire's attempts at payback. He didn't need a steak dinner. In fact, he rather liked fish.

* * *

After dinner, they all returned to the common room, where Tony produced three bags of marshmallows, several bars of chocolate, and boxes of graham crackers. He also handed each of the Avengers a metal skewer, which extended up to three feet long so you could sit comfortably and roast your marshmallows without getting too close to the fire. He handed Clint a stick.

Clint eyed it suspiciously. "Tell me you didn't hunt down Poison Oak," he said. Tony laughed. "No," he said. "That was just the first stick I found outside. If it's Poison Oak, well, that'd be a coincidence, now, wouldn't it?"

He stuck a marshmallow on his own skewer and held it over the fire. "However," he said. "You might want to wash your hands after you're done handling it. Who knows how many animals have already paid this particular stick a visit?"

Clint sighed and put down the stick. Natasha let him use her skewer when she was done, but it would have been much easier to make smores if they hadn't had to take turns.

* * *

"And this is your room," Tony said to Clint, leading him down the hall.

He had saved Clint for last, and Clint had no doubt that there was some form of prank on the other end. So he wasn't all that surprised when Tony opened the door and revealed Clint's "room" to be a deck overlooking the lake.

"Well, here we are," Tony said, stepping out into the night air. "Tent's in the corner, sleeping bag's in the tent, if you need to use the bathroom, the stairs are right over there, they lead down onto the nature hike. You might want to hold it, however, it looks like it might rain tonight."

This had gone far enough. "Seriously, Tony?" Clint asked, following the man out onto the deck. "Look, I'm sorry I teased you about camping. Now can we please get over this whole thing?"

"What thing?" Tony asked, playing innocent. "I'm just trying to make everybody comfortable. Have a good night!"

With that, he ran back into the house and shut the door. Clint ran after him, but by the time he got to the door, he heard a slight click. Rattling the doorknob, he realized that Tony had locked the door.

Sighing, he turned back to the tent. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

"So, did you enjoy your sleep?" Tony asked in between bites of his pancakes.

"I had an excellent evening," Thor exclaimed excitedly, momentarily forgetting the bacon he'd been raving over a moment before. "That was undoubtedly the best bed I've ever slept on, softer even then the bed in my royal chambers back on Asgard!"

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, buddy," Tony said. "But I was talking to Queen Susan over here."

Clint looked up from his breakfast of leftover fish, sore from sleeping out on the deck and tired from being kept up by the cold air. "What did you just call me?" He asked angrily.

Tony smirked. "Queen Susan," he said. "You know, from the Narnia series? Always carries around a bow and arrow. She wasn't too big on camping either."

Clint took a deep breath. He was determined not to let Tony win. "Better her than Katniss," he muttered.

Tony laughed. Really, laughed. Clint looked up in surprise, usually, he only heard Tony laugh for reporters or cameras, and it always sounded a bit forced. Even the few times he'd heard Tony laugh in private, it was usually bitter or mean-spirited. This was new.

He glanced over at Pepper, who was beaming at Tony, before he turned back to the billionaire himself.

"It wasn't that funny," he said, smiling a little in spite of himself.

"No, it wasn't," Tony agreed, calming down a little. "It was your face when you said it. Alright, you win. JARVIS, send Sophie out with a plate of decent breakfast for Agent Barton, and some more coffee. He looks like he could use it."

"Yes sir," JARVIS responded. Clint blinked. That was it? He just had to make Tony laugh and the war was over? He could have ended this yesterday!

Oh well. Now he knew what to do the next time Tony decided to play a prank on him. The silent treatment didn't work and apologizing wasn't the way to go. You had to tell lame jokes.


	3. It's Not Easy Being Green

_Author's note: This chapter is a little bit more angsty than the first two, but I felt it was neccessary in this case, as each of the Avengers react differently in different situations. The victim of Tony's Starkasm in this chapter is Bruce, and Bruce isn't the kind of guy to be easily riled up by petty pranks or snarky comments, so I had to go much deeper with him to achieve the same result. This chapter was by far the most fun to write, however, and I really like the way it turned out, even going so far as to say it's my favorite so far._

_Also, I just wanted to give a shout-out to special agent Ali for partly influencing my decision to continue this story. Now, onto the third chapter!_

* * *

"Friend Stark, why are you green?"

Thor's confused question brought Bruce's mind back down to earth, and he looked up from his blueprints to see that Tony was, in fact, green.

His face and neck was covered in green face paint, his beard had temporary green hair dye in it (Bruce knew it was temporary because Tony would never dye his beard, he liked it too much), and he was wearing a green T-shirt.

"It's Halloween," said the billionaire, sitting down. "The rest of my costume is in the workshop, Jarvis is doing the final paint coating now."

"And what are you supposed to be?" Clint asked, jumping down from where he'd been perched on top of the refrigerator.

"You'll see," Tony said cryptically. "Right now I'm just down here because I'm thirsty. I have the strangest craving for Pepsi. Do we have any Pepsi?"

Bruce shook his head. "No," he said. "I don't think so."

"What, no way!" Tony exclaimed. He rushed over to the fridge and opened it, searching its contents for Soda. "How do we not have any Pepsi!?"

"Tasha likes Pepsi," Clint said, shrugging. "But what's the deal, I've never seen you get so worked up before. It's just soda."

Tony looked up and blinked, the words taking a second to register because he was focused on the Pepsi.

"Huh," he said. "I don't know, I guess I'm just not used to sharing my stuff a whole lot. Pepper hates Pepsi."

"What is this Halloween you speak of?" Thor asked in bewilderment. They all looked at him.

"Right," Tony said, still looking at Thor as he grabbed a Coke and began walking back to his workshop. "Bruce, explain Halloween to Goldilocks here. Clint, tell Natashalie to stay outta my stuff. I've gotta go put on my costume."

"You really want to get between Nat and her Pepsi?" Clint asked incredulously. Tony paused. "No, you're right," he said. "Never mind. JARVIS? order some more Pepsi to be delivered as soon as possible. Double the order too, now that more people are going to be drinking it. Now, if you'll excuse my, my costume awaits."

With that, he left the kitchen. Bruce chuckled and turned to Thor, who was looking at him quizzically. _Right, how to explain Halloween... Way to dodge a bullet, Tony,_ He thought as he began to explain.

* * *

"Okay, that is seriously the best costume ever," Clint said. Bruce looked up from his notes to see Tony outside on the balcony, wearing what he could only assume was his costume.

"Oh, please, tell me that's not what I think it is," he said.

Tony was wearing a robotic Hulk suit.

"Isn't it sweet?" He called out as he walked through the large doors. "I've been working on it for months, I'm not used to making something this big!"

"Tony, this isn't funny," Bruce said, looking from the green metal fists to the parts of the legs that were painted purple.

"No, you're right," Tony said. "It most certainly is _not_ funny. It's amazing, plain and simple. I've got the best Hulk costume in New York! Maybe even the world, though I don't know, I saw a few cosplayers in Japan that came pretty close..."

"Seriously, Tony, accepting the Other Guy is one thing, dressing up like him..."

"Would you relax? The Hulk's a hero, Bruce, I don't know why you're so against it when somebody likes him."

"But the Hulk's not under my control," Bruce argued. "If kids see him as a hero, if they start dressing up like him, idolizing him, they start thinking he's their friend. Then what happens if I lose control and they see him out on the streets, and they go up to him, and he hurts them?"

"The Hulk wouldn't do that, though," Tony said. "_You_ might not be in control, Bruce, but that doesn't mean he's not under control. I think that he usually has a pretty good idea of what he's doing."

"But how do you know that?" Bruce asked.

Tony sighed. "For one thing, he saved my life," he said. "When he could have either let me fall or smash me. For another, he saved the lives of hundreds of civilians, when he could have smashed them just as easily as the Chitauri or any other monsters we've fought, and finally, he speaks in almost complete sentences."

Bruce was about to argue, but was surprised at the last reason. "...Really?" he asked. Tony nodded.

"I've heard him when we were out on missions," he said. "He sticks mainly to one or two word sentences, but he speaks."

Bruce shook his head. "But still," he said. "Dressing up like him is going too far."

"I really don't think so," Tony challenged, but just then, Steve came running into the room, in all his Captain America glory.

"Whoa, Cap," Tony said. "Dressing up as yourself is definitely not allowed."

"SHIELD called," Steve explained, ignoring Tony's remark. "There's some kind of monster attacking Rochester. We're needed."

"Seriously?" Tony said, raising his eyebrows. "A monster attack? On Halloween? Somebody went a little overboard with their costume."

"You're one to talk," Clint said, but then Steve, who had just noticed Tony's costume, froze.

"Tony," he said slowly. "What are you wearing?"

Tony looked down at himself. "Oh yeah," he said. "It's my Halloween costume! I'm being the Hulk this year."

Steve stared. "Are you serious!?" He asked. Tony frowned. "What?" he said. "Jealous that I didn't decide to be you? Sorry, Cap, I haven't dressed up as Captain America since I was like, six."

Now everyone was staring. Tony seemed to realize what he'd said and cleared his throat.

"Well?" He said. "Are we just gonna let Rochester take care of itself? Let's go!"

"Wait wait wait," Bruce said. "Are... are you gonna change into your suit?"

"Nah," Tony said with a grin before a helmet and face plate resembling the Hulk's head assembled itself around Tony's head. "This suit isn't just for show, y'know," came Tony's voice through the speakers. "I gave it all the abilities of my other suits, it's just bigger. And green."

"Tony..." Bruce began, but was interrupted by Clint. "Wait a minute," He said. "Why'd you give your Halloween costume all the capabilities of your real suits?"

Tony shrugged. "Just in case," he said.

Clint snorted. "Just in case?" He repeated. "Were you _expecting_ a monster attack on Halloween night?"

"No," Tony said. "It's just... I like to be prepared, that's all. What is this, pick on Tony night? The civilians down in Rochester are screaming for help, and you can bet those streets are packed with lots of little kids who would probably like to get back to begging for candy in relative peace. So can we go now?"

"Tony's right," Steve said. "We've got to move!"

With that, they all went off to save the day.

* * *

Needless to say, the Avengers won the battle. The Monster hadn't been all that hard to defeat, and the Hulk hadn't even been needed at all. So Bruce had stood back, watching the fight.

It was weird, watching the robot Hulk fight. Tony had programmed the suit to emulate the Hulk's fighting style as well as his appearance, so Bruce, for the first time, got to watch the Hulk as if he were an outsider.

He tried to tell himself that it wasn't the same, that this Hulk wasn't, as Tony so eloquently put it, a Giant Green Rage Monster. No, this was just Tony playing dress up, trying to get a rise out of him, but he could feel it working, despite how hard he was trying to fight it.

After the fight was over and the Avengers began to head back to the tower, Tony turned to Bruce with a smile. "Well," he said. "That was fun and everything, but I'm not gonna lie. I don't much prefer your suit, I think I'll go back to red and gold and leave the whole green thing in your corner."

"If only it were that easy for me," Bruce found himself snapping. He didn't know why, but he suddenly felt a surge of anger at Tony's words. He was always angry in some way or another, but this time, he was truly mad.

Almost immediately, the other Avengers all stiffened slightly, the mood suddenly tense. All except for Tony, that is. He raised his eyebrow and looked into Bruce's eyes. They were green, they had to be green. Bruce felt the Other Guy's presence so strongly that he simply _had _to be showing in Bruce's eyes.

He took a few deep breaths, he tried to calm himself. If only Tony would leave well enough alone for once in his life.

Unfortunately, when it came to Tony Stark, 'leaving well enough alone' was just about impossible.

"If I didn't know any better," he joked. "I'd say you were just jealous 'cause I'm just as good at being the Hulk as you are. In fact, I might even go as far as to say you were..." He paused, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. "Green with envy."

"What, you think I wanted this!?" Bruce snapped. "I'm not jealous, Tony, if I could give my_ 'suit,' _as you call it, to someone else, I would. Heck with it, if I could simply kill the other guy off, I'd do it without a moment's hesitation. But I can't."

He could feel his heart beating faster and faster, he could feel his anger reaching new levels, the only thing keeping the Hulk back was the fact that he had to finish, he had to say everything he wanted to say, everything he'd been wanting to say since the creation of the Other Guy.

"Dr. Banner, you need to calm down..." Natasha was saying in low quiet tones. Oh, so he was back to Dr. Banner now? Figured.

He let out a bitter laugh. "You don't understand anything about what my life has been like," He said to Tony, ignoring Natasha's warnings. "You can't even_ begin_ to comprehend what I go through on a daily basis. You tell me you think you'll leave the whole green thing in my corner? That this is just some game, some suit you put on for a few hours, 'till the novelty wears off and you can go on your merry way? I can _never_ step out of the ring, Stark."

"Bruce..." Steve said quietly. Huh. At least _he_ still considered him worthy of a first name.

But Bruce wasn't finished. "I can _never_ be too careful, I can't _ever_ let loose, I have to constantly watch myself, check myself, fight with myself, to try and keep the Other Guy from breaking through. _You_ drink away your problems, I've seen you do it. Drown yourself in alcohol until all your reservations are gone. I can't do that. My reservations are the only thing keeping the monster from being unleashed."

"Well said," Tony said when he was finished. "Nicely put, the wording was great, I liked how you used my boxing analogy to prove your point, and the bit about the monster was especially congruent to your argument. The delivery, however-"

That was as far as he got, though, because right at that moment, Bruce felt the Hulk break free from his control and he knew no more.

* * *

When Bruce came to, he was in the Avengers Tower, lying on his bed and wearing tattered pants (Tony was working on pants that could expand to Hulk-size and still be there when Bruce returned, but they still got a bit ripped when he changed) and a new T-shirt.

He groaned and got up, slipping on a new pair of shoes before leaving his room and hunting down the rest of the group.

Finally, he found Clint, Steve and Thor sitting around a table in one of the kitchens, drinking coffee.

"Good evening," Steve said, looking up from a newspaper. "Feeling better?"

"How bad was it?" Bruce asked. Better to get it all out as soon as possible, rather than beat around the bush and imagine the worst.

"Lost the quinjet," Steve said nonchalantly. "You tore a wall out when you transformed. But we managed to land fairly safely. Scared the pilot half to death, though..." Steve gave a sort of half smile as he gazed blankly at the floor, probably remembering the look on the pilot's face.

"And... Tony?" Bruce prompted, fearing the answer but needing to know.

"Tony's fine," Clint said with a smirk. "Luckily, he managed to get the helmet activated right before the punch landed."

"Oh no... I hit him?" Bruce asked, sitting down. Thor nodded. "It was well justified, I assure you. He had no right to speak as he did."

"Yeah, but justified or not, I still hit him..." Bruce said. "You sure he's okay?"

Steve smiled and gave a small nod. "He's perfectly fine," he said. "Pepper insisted he get checked out as soon as we got to the tower, he didn't get so much as a bruise."

"Wow..." Bruce said. "The helmet was really that strong?"

"Not exactly," Clint said. "You should see it, it's smashed to bits, Hulk pulverized the thing!"

"But... I thought you said..." Bruce started, confused. Steve sighed and put down his paper. "The Hulk only hit Tony once," he said. "And personally, I think he pulled his punch quite a bit. That stunned Tony for a second, and the Hulk ripped the helmet right off his head. Then he went to town busting the helmet."

"He what!?" Bruce exclaimed. That had never happened before.

"Yeah," Clint said. "Tony thinks it might have been some sort of redirection. The Hulk didn't want to beat up Tony, so he channeled his anger at the helmet."

"Wow..." That was all Bruce could say. "How did Tony react?"

"That was the strange part," Steve said, frowning a little. "He laughed."

"He_ what!?_" Bruce found himself saying again.

Thor nodded, also frowning. "He simply sat in his seat and laughed," the Norse god admitted. "He laughed all the while as the Hulk destroyed the helmet, and even well into after the quinjet had made its landing. He only ceased once the Hulk had finished and returned his attention to friend Stark."

"Uh-oh," Bruce said. "Then what happened?"

Clint smiled again. "He talked," he said. "The Hulk talked to Tony."

Bruce leaned forward. This was too unreal. "What did he say?" He asked.

"He said: 'Stay outta my stuff'." Clint said.

Bruce felt his mouth drop open. If possible, it would have gone all the way to the floor. "No way," he said quietly. "He... he made a joke!?"

"Yeah, he made a joke."

Everyone turned to look at the doorway, where Tony was smiling at Bruce, most of the green paint scrubbed off of his face, and his beard dyed black again. He walked over and sat down next to Bruce, clutching a Pepsi in his hand.

"What'd I tell you?" He said. "The Jolly Green Giant has quite the sense of humor, stealing my line and using it against me. But hey, lessons learned, right? You learned that the Hulk is a lot more in control than you thought, and I learned that the big guy and I have something in common."

He took a swig of Pepsi and smirked at Bruce. "Neither of us like to share."


	4. The Knave of Hearts (AKA Tony Stark)

_Author's note: I must admit, I don't know pretty much anything about Thor's characteristics beyond the movie, the first 20 episodes of Earth's Mightiest Heroes, and what I've read here on itself. Oh, and I gathered a bit from his segment of the Superhero Cafe HISHE youtube video. So I did my best, and if I completely mutilated his character, don't sue me, please! Also, a lot of fics I've read seem to say that Thor's addicted to Pop-tarts (Which I do not own, disclaimer). So, here you go._

* * *

"Friend Stark," Thor said loudly, entering the Room of Entertainment and looking around. Tony looked up from where he was sitting on the couch, playing with one of those "Cell phones" the Midgardians used.

'Yeah? The billionaire said absently. "What's up?"

Thor sighed. "I'm afraid I have grievous news," he said. "The kitchens were under stocked, and we are out of Pop-tarts."

Tony blinked. "Seriously?" He said. "How can we be out? I ordered like, twenty boxes last week." He narrowed his eyes and looked suspiciously at Thor. "How many Pop-tarts do you eat on average?" He asked.

Thor thought for a moment. "I eat a packet of each flavor every morning with my breakfast."

"A packet of each flavor!?" Tony exclaimed. Thor nodded. "And if I hunger during afternoons, I partake of them then as well, to whet my appetite."

"Alright, dude, you seriously have to cut back on the Pop-tarts for awhile," Tony said. "I don't know much about Asgardian physiology, but down here on earth, there's this thing called "Health," and eating 10 packets of Pop-tarts every morning for breakfast does not fall under that category."

"I do not eat the pastries alone," Thor argued. "I eat them as part of a healthy breakfast, just as it says on the box."

"Okay, what all do you eat for breakfast in the morning?" Tony asked, putting down his cell phone and giving his undivided attention to Thor, who began listing his normal breakfast of hot porridge, (here called oatmeal) six poached eggs, Sausages, bacon, cold ham, toasted bread with butter and jam, a glass of orange juice, a glass of cold milk, and a mug of black coffee.

"Geez, you're eating enough food to feed an army!" Tony exclaimed when he was finished. "If I'd known I was going to be feeding a Centaur every morning, I wouldn't have invited you to live here!"

"I do not understand; in what way am I to be compared with a Centaur?"

Tony paused. "...Never mind the Centaur, it's just a reference to a book I read when I was a kid. What I'm trying to say, Thor, is that you eat too much. At least, you eat too many Pop-tarts."

"So will you not purchase more?" Thor asked. Tony looked at him. "Maybe, maybe not," he said. "I'll think about it. But for now, I'm busy."

He returned his attentions to his cell phone. Thor knew that further discussion would get him nowhere. Or it would get him an even lesser chance of getting what he wanted, simply because Stark did not "do" discussions when he was working.

* * *

The next morning, the cupboards were stocked with twice as many as before, so Thor put the discussion from his mind and decided Tony must have changed his mind.

* * *

_Three days later_

Entering the kitchen, Thor made straight for the cupboard where the Pop-tarts were kept and reached in for the box of strawberry ones.

His hand felt nothing but empty air.

He opened the door wider and peered into the spacious cupboard. It was empty.

That didn't make any sense, there had still been several boxes there the day before. He had been taking Tony's words to heart, and now every morning he only ate a packet of his top 6 favorites. He was sure he hadn't finished every box.

As he was standing there, looking into the empty cupboard, Tony entered the room, followed by a smirking Clint and a reluctant Bruce.

"This," Tony said, indicating the empty cupboard, "is an intervention."

"An intervention?" Thor asked in confusion. "What does that mean? What is being intervened?"

"An intervention is when a group of concerned friends or family members get together to help someone fight an addiction or a destructive tendency," Bruce said. "At least, that's what it usually is. But in this case, it's just Tony messing with you because you like Pop-tarts."

"Hey," Tony said. "There's nothing wrong with liking Pop-tarts. Thor just eats too many, that's all. Now, have you both got your letters?"

Clint and Tony both pulled a folded piece of paper from their pockets, but Bruce sighed.

"You never gave me mine," He said to Tony.

"Oh, right!" The billionaire said, pulling out a third piece of paper and handing it to Bruce. "Just read what I wrote," he said. "Now then, I'll get started."

He opened his letter and, clearing his throat, began to read.

"Thor," he said. "This letter is to help you get over your addiction to Pop-Tarts. We are all concerned with your Asgardian health, as I have witnessed, on several different occasions, you eating twenty or more Pop-tarts in one setting."

"Twenty?" Bruce asked quietly. "Huh. That _is_ a lot."

"Yes it is," Tony said. "Now, if I may get back to my letter?"

Bruce nodded. "Sorry," he said.

Tony took a deep breath and continued. "I am concerned that this addiction will cause you to get fat and sluggish, and will eventually cause you to be so unhealthy that you will be unable to fight or fly, or even to lift that hammer that nobody can pronounce the name of."

"It's called Mjolnir," Bruce interrupted. "And seriously, Tony, that's really a stretch of the imagination that Thor would get _that _overweight from Pop-tarts. Yeah, they aren't healthy, but come on, it's not like McDonalds or anything."

"Are you on my side or not?" Tony said, putting the letter down and turning to Bruce angrily. "I am trying to do something nice for Thor here. And if you're not going to help, I would appreciate it if you and your negative attitude got up and left this kitchen. Right now."

Bruce sighed. "Fine," he said. "Continue."

"Actually, that was it," Tony said. "I'm finished. Clint? Would you like to go next?"

"Sure," Clint said, smiling as he opened his letter. "Thor," he said. "I also would like to express my concern for your well-being. This addiction to Pop-tarts has ruined many lives before, and I care too much to let the same happen to you. Wow, this was written really well, Tony. Nice and emotional."

"Thank you," Tony said smugly. "I do try."

Clint turned back to the letter. "I too have struggled with addictions in the past. Wait, what?"

He looked back at Tony, who raised his eyebrows. "Clint, you're never going to help Thor with his problems if you don't open up and share your own."

"But-"

"Clint, just keep reading."

"Oh, um, okay." Clint looked back at the letter. "I, Agent Clint Barton, was once addicted to purple spandex and head gear shaped like a bird's head. Tony, this doesn't make any sense! I've never worn anything _like_ that."

"I beg to differ," Tony said. "Everyone knows Hawkeye wears purple spandex and a stupid mask shaped like a bird's head. It's your common costume in the whole comic book world. You know they're making a whole series about us, right?"

"And that's how they drew me?" Clint asked. Tony pulled another piece of paper out of his pocket. It was a photograph. "Here it is right here," he said.

Clint took it and stared. "Okay," he said. "I don't know who designed this thing, but I look nothing like that."

"At any rate, you haven't finished your letter," Tony reminded him. Clint looked down.

"Although this addiction is admittedly stupid and only a complete freak would ever even consider dressing like that, I simply could not give it up. But with the proper help and an intervention of my own, I managed to overcome my addiction to looking ridiculous. Tony..."

"Well, now that that's finished, there's only one letter left," Tony interrupted.

"Bruce? Would you do the honors?"

Bruce let out a deep breath. "Fine," he said. "Let's get this over with."

Pulling his glasses out of his pocket, he placed them on his face, opened his letter and took a moment to look at it. "...Tony, I'm not reading this," he said.

"Oh come on," Tony said. "Just read it. It's not that bad."

"Alright... here goes..." Bruce looked around at Tony, Clint, and Thor. Then he looked down at the letter and sighed again before reading.

"Dear Thor," he said. "I completely agree with everything Tony and Clint said. 100%, whole-heartedly, all the way. Tony is right this time. Tony is right most of the time. Tony is right all the time. Tony is always right. For goodness sake, Tony, this sounds like I'm trying to brainwash someone."

"Well..." Tony said, cocking his head and thinking for a second. "It's true. I am. At least in this case. Now then," He said, turning to Thor, who had been watching in confusion. "Now that the letters have all been read, time for the demands."

"Demands?" Thor asked. "What demands?"

"Well, in most interventions, the people staging said intervention withhold funds, support, or access to the addicting items until the addicted person agrees to seek professional help in overcoming said addiction," Tony said. "In this case, since there are no psychiatrists who specialize in toaster breakfast pastries, my demands are as follows: You will promise to have no more than one packet of Pop-tarts each morning, and only one packet of Pop-tarts in the afternoon if you feel a bit peckish."

"And if I refuse?" Thor might not be up to date on all Midgardian customs, but he understood what Tony had meant when he'd said he would withhold funds and addicting items.

Tony smirked. "You will never see your precious Pop-tarts again. And, might I add, I will never buy a box of Pop-tarts again as long as you live in my tower and eat my food."

Thor sighed. "Well, Man of Iron," he said. "It would appear I have no choice. If you swear out an oath to return the stolen Pop-tarts, I shall swear out an oath to partake of only two packets a day."

"Whoa, there's no need for swearing," Tony said. "You said you'd do it, that's enough for me. The Pop-tarts will be in the cupboard tomorrow morning. Don't forget your promise."

With that said, Tony turned and left the kitchen.

"Well, glad you're finally going to get help for that Pop-tart problem," Clint said with a smirk before following Tony out of the kitchen.

Thor looked at Bruce. "So," he said. "How did he convince you to come along on this "intervention" scheme?"

Bruce scoffed. "Threatened to sell my lab equipment, kick me out of the tower, and ban me from all the bathrooms on the top thirty floors. In that order."

Thor let out a hearty laugh and he gave Bruce a firm pat on the back, causing the poor scientist to stumble forward, his glasses falling to the floor.

"That is an excellent joke," He said.

"Yeah?" Bruce said, picking up his glasses and dusting them off. "Well, I'm glad you think so, buddy," he said. "I, for one, think he could've done better. "Tony is right, Tony is always right..." That was seriously messed up."

Thor laughed again and sighed, thinking of Tony Stark. "Well, you've got to admit," he said. "It certainly seems like something he'd say."

Bruce laughed. "Yeah, but he'd never mean it," he said. "You remember that, next time he says something really stuck up. He doesn't really mean it."

"Do not worry, Friend Bruce," Thor said. "I've known for some time, now. He never really means it."

Bruce smiled. "Good to know," he said. "Just... don't tell Tony. He still thinks we all don't know he's soft."

Thor smiled. "Your secret is safe with me," he said. Life was good, it was a beautiful day, his friends were all here, and there would be Pop-tarts in the morning.

* * *

When Thor woke up the next morning, he was startled to find box after box after boxof Pop-tarts, all stacked up around his room, making a maze out of the boxes. Tony must have restocked.

Thor sighed, but decided to look on the bright side. With the new two packet a day rule, he would never run out of Pop-tarts again.


	5. Not My Cup of Tea

_Author's note: Sorry it took so long to update, I just wasn't feeling inspired towards the Avengers at all and focused mainly on my main muse, the Monkees. Also, thanks to special agent ali for giving me a push back towards the Avengers fics._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the A-Team, although I wish I did merely so I could have the honor of meeting one of my favorite actors, Dwight Schultz._

* * *

"Alright, you're dismissed." Nick Fury ended the debriefing and the rest of the team began filing out of the room. "Captain America," He said. "I need to speak with you for a moment."

Steve would have groaned if that had been polite. He figured he already knew what Fury was going to say. The meeting had been to inform the team that, due to "performance issues," which really meant getting the job done but not as quickly or efficiently as Fury would have it, he had decided they were going to do some "team training," which was they would go out into a massive training facility in the middle of nowhere and work together as a team to survive a series of simulations Fury had dreamed up.

But that was only a part of why Fury wanted to speak to Steve alone. The real issue was not even Steve at all.

"Where was Stark during the debriefing?" Fury asked, getting straight to the point.

Steve sighed. "Said he had an important business meeting," He said. "Couldn't skip out on it."

Fury raised one eyebrow, not buying it. "Oh?" He said. "Well then, whenever he isn't _busy_, I want you to tell him about the training exercise. He's not getting out of this one."

"Yes sir," Steve said, but inwardly, he chuckled. As if it would be that easy. If Tony had been the kind of guy to attend training meetings, then they wouldn't have needed a team training exercise to begin with. But he wasn't going to tell Fury that. He was a soldier, first and foremost. Soldiers obeyed orders, there's was not to question why. Which was part of Stark's problem, actually.

"I'll tell him," He promised with a small smile. Fury smiled back. Fury's smiles always kind of creeped Steve out. He was reminded of a character on some TV show Tony had insisted he watch, the A-Team.

_"Don't smile at me like that!" _One of the characters had said to the other. _"It's not even a real smile, it's just a bunch of teeth messing with my head!"_

It was like Fury had some bigger plan thought out than what he was willing to share, one which would cause a lot more problems than he was willing to admit. Like he was, as they'd said on the show, "on the Jazz," whatever that meant.

Yeah. Fury was on the Jazz.

* * *

"Hey, Tony, Fury wasn't too happy about you missing the meeting today," Steve said, walking into the kitchen to find Tony making himself a sandwich.

"Yeah, well, Fury can call and schedule an appointment if it means that much to him," Tony said, looking tired. "Pepper would have killed me if I missed that meeting. You know, I get the feeling Fury's forgotten just how much work goes into being the richest man on Earth."

Steve chuckled. "Well, he told me to relay the important stuff to you," he said. "Mainly, he's decided we're not doing as good of a job as we could, and so he's arranged for us to go to a training facility in Nevada and do some training exercises."

Tony peered at him. "You're kidding, right?" He said.

Steve smiled. "I'm afraid not," he said. "Don't kill me, I'm just the messenger."

Tony chuckled. "You know, I get the feeling Fury's forgotten just how much work goes into being the Mightiest Heroes on Earth."

"Tell me about it," Steve said. "Let me tell you, Natasha didn't look too pleased when he criticized her accuracy on that last mission."

"You mean the one where she threw twenty-three knives at a moving target and only twenty-two of them hit the exact center of the heart and one hit it on the left side? No, see, Fury's got a point. With work as sloppy as that, I was embarrassed to call her a teammate myself."

Steve laughed. "Honestly, I considered Fury lucky that she didn't decide to prove just how accurate her aim really is."

"No kidding," Tony said. "But anyway, you can tell Fury that I think I'll skip out on this little team-bonding thing he's got planned."

"He's not going to take no for an answer very easily," Steve warned.

"Well, that's too bad," Tony said. "Maybe if he'd chosen a different facility, I wouldn't mind showing up for a little while. But seriously, the one in Nevada? Shameful."

"You've been there?" Steve asked.

Tony scoffed. "Designed it," he said. "The weapons systems, the security, the climate simulations, all of it."

"Oh," Steve said. "Then... why is it shameful?"

"It's way too easy," Tony said with a smirk. "It's as if he just handed me his laptop and gave me the password for his top secret files. There'd be no challenge in it for me. Besides, I don't do team bonding."

Steve laughed. "So, I take it you'll be skipping out on the exercise, then?"

"Sorry, Cap, it's just not my cup of tea," Tony said. "My cup of tea is mostly coffee, with a bag of Chai Spice thrown in, sweetened with milk and sugar and topped off with whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and caramel sauce."

Steve blinked, momentarily forgetting what he'd been talking about in the first place. "That can't be healthy," he said.

Tony shrugged. "Tastes better than your cup of tea," he said.

"And what do you think my cup of tea is?" Steve asked, curious in spite of himself.

Tony smirked. "There's only one cup of tea for you," he said. "Iced."

Steve chuckled. "Right," he said. "In that case, I guess I'll just tell Fury you're out. Let me know if you change your mind."

"Oh, oh oh!" Tony said, sitting up straight and grinning like an idiot. "Guess what Bruce's cup of tea is? Green tea!" He pounded his fist on the table as he laughed. "And Natashalie's tea is black tea. You know, 'cause she's the black widow, and she'd need a lot of sugar to sweeten her up!"

Steve just shook his head and began to walk away, but he couldn't help but smile as the billionaire behind him continued to rant about their cups of tea.

He was just glad Tony couldn't see his smile. The last thing he wanted was to encourage him.

* * *

Steve was getting ready to place the call to Fury and let him know that Stark was out when JARVIS's voice came on over the intercom. "Mr. Rogers," It said. "Mr. Stark would like me to inform you that he has changed his mind and plans to attend the exercise with you and the rest of the team."

"Really?" Steve asked the open air. He was finally getting used to the AI's presence, although it still unnerved him slightly when JARVIS spoke to him when he wasn't expecting it. "What made him change his mind?"

"Can you keep a secret, sir?" JARVIS asked, much to Steve's confusion.

"Uh, yeah," He said. "Why? What is it?"

"Mr. Stark has decided Director Fury needs to be reminded of exactly who he is dealing with," JARVIS informed him.

Steve laughed. "Oh, Tony," he said. "You have my word, JARVIS, not a word of this will reach Director Fury."

"Thank you sir," JARVIS said. "And Mr. Stark would like me to tell you that he always knew there was a bit of a rebel in you somewhere."

Steve chuckled. "Yeah..." He said. "Maybe there is." It wasn't all that proper, him being a soldier and all that. But, perhaps a few questions now and then couldn't hurt. Following a leader blindly never got anything done, that's why he had wanted to go to war to begin with.

Cap the Rebel. It didn't sound quite right.

"JARVIS?" he said.

"Yes sir?"

"Tell Tony I'm just an innocent bystander. He can be the rebel this time through."

"Very good sir," JARVIS replied. "He says he will gladly leave your name out of it."

Steve smiled. Tony was another person to look out for, he decided. Especially when he was on the Jazz.


	6. Team Bonding

_Author's notes: I'm sorry if Fury isn't as in-character as he could be, I don't know much of his character beyond the movie, and he turned out to be more like he is in Earth's Mightiest Heroes._

_Also, the video referred to in this chapter is a youtube video called Dope Zebra, by Rhett and Link. I don't own it, disclaimer. Check it out, it's funny!_

* * *

Fury was pleased. He was very pleased. Not only had he arranged for the Avengers to do some training exercises in a top secret facility in Nevada, he had somehow arranged for _all_ of the Avengers to do some training exercises in a top secret facility in Nevada. _All_ being the key word here.

"It's nice to see you all could make it," He said, looking around at the team, letting his eyes linger for a moment on Stark. It must have been a good idea to let the Captain talk to him, instead of giving the order himself.

"In a few moments, you'll go through these doors and into the dome, and we'll begin the simulation. I'll be in the control room, watching, so don't get any funny ideas."

Once again, he let his gaze rest on Stark for a moment longer. Stark didn't seem to mind, in fact, he simply smirked at the director.

Fury was now uneasy, although still fairly confident in his ability to control the young superhero.

"Stark," he said. "I don't want you messing with this exercise. Hand over your phone."

Stark smiled, but handed his phone to Fury without a complaint.

"And your other one," Fury said. Stark handed a second phone to Fury, who pocketed both. "Watch," He said next. Stark undid the clasp of his watch and handed the tech to Fury.

"Johnson," Fury called, summoning forward a young man who eyed the billionaire warily. He was carrying a metal detector. "Do the sweep."

"Fury," Tony started, but Fury held up his hand.

"I'm not taking any chances," he said. "Hold out your arms."

"But Fury..." Tony said again.

"Stark, for the last time, hold out your arms."

The corner of Tony's mouth twitched, but he obeyed and held out his arms. No sooner had the wand been held even close to Tony and it began to beep madly.

"Alright, Stark," Fury said, holding out his hand. "Hand whatever it is you've got over to me."

"First off, I'd like to point out that what you just said is probably the stupidest thing I've heard in a while," Tony said. "For all you know, I could have a bomb, or a gun, or the smallpox."

"The smallpox?" Steve asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't care what it is you've got," Fury said, ignoring the Captain. "You're not taking it into the simulation."

"Then I'm afraid I'll have to sit this one out," Tony said, smirking. "Because I'm not going in there without it."

"Yes, you are," Fury said. "You're going in there and whatever it is is staying out here. Now hand it over."

Tony sighed. "Fine," he said. Unbuttoning a few buttons in the middle of his shirt, he reached in, and with a click, the Arc Reactor was out and placed in the hands of Fury, who stared at it for a moment.

"Tony," Bruce said uneasily, also staring at the Reactor.

Tony smirked. "Relax," he said. "I've got roughly three minutes. I just hope we can get through the exercise in that time. Let's get going."

He started towards the doors leading into the simulation dome, but was stopped by a growling Fury.

"Put it back in," He ordered angrily. "And no more funny business if you know what's good for you."

"Aw, Fury," Tony said, but there was a trace of breathlessness in his calm tone. "You're getting soft. I knew you cared about me." He took the Arc Reactor and clicked it back into place. "That's one of the downsides to all this," He commented as he buttoned his shirt back up. "Metal detectors go crazy around me."

Fury wasn't satisfied that Tony wouldn't pull something, however, and made very sure that the billionaire was not in possession of any more electronics.

"Jeez, Fury," Tony said after awhile as Fury had a man check out the soles of the Italian shoes. "I came here on your orders to do team-bonding and target practice. Will you stop being paranoid that I'll sneak in some piece of technology and let us get this over with already?"

Fury finally let the team suit up and go through the doors, and took the elevator up to the control room.

By the time he got there, everything was chaos.

"Wha-" he sputtered, stunned at what was happening in the simulation dome.

The entire Jungle environment was burning, entire portions of it already burnt away completely. Rock music was blasting through the loudspeakers, and all of the training lasers that were supposed to fire randomly at the Avengers were instead shooting in a dazzling pattern, creating a spectacular light show, deflecting off the few mirror-surfaces in the dome, flashing on and off in time to the music.

The security cameras were spinning wildly, unable to film anything at all. The panicked voices of the people in the control room got his attention, and he looked around to see what they were freaking out about.

None of the monitors displayed what they were supposed to. Every single screen showed what appeared to be a Youtube video of two guys in a zebra costume, dancing hip-hop in a backyard. The people trying to regain control of their computers seemed to not want to touch their keyboards.

"What happened!?" Fury demanded. Whatever it was, he knew who was responsible. He just wanted to know how it had happened.

"It's Stark, sir," One brave man said. "He's overridden all controls, and he's somehow managed to make it so the equipment is charged. We can't touch it without being electrically shocked."

"Yes, but how did he manage it!?" Fury all but yelled.

One of the people glanced at Fury. "Permission to speak, sir?" She asked.

He nodded. "I want answers," He said.

"He's wearing his suit," She said simply, watching for Fury's reaction.

How on earth had he forgotten about that? He could take away phones and watches and he could check the soles of Tony's shoes, but the moment Tony had activated the Ironman suit, the entire base was at his mercy.

Fury was angry. Mostly because he should have seen this coming, but also because Stark was making a fool of him. Again.

"Is the intercom charged?" He demanded, turning to a SHIELD agent sitting next to the com. The agent eyed it warily, before reaching over and touching it. Nothing happened.

"No sir," the agent said with relief, handing the com to Fury, who took it and turned it on.

"STARK!" He yelled into it, looking through the window into the dome below. The six Avengers hadn't even left the doorway, they all stood still, watching the light show.

The music turned down, although it was still playing loudly. Then Tony's voice came over the intercom.

"Yes sir?" He asked innocently.

"Don't give me any of that," Fury growled. "Would you care to explain exactly _why_ you saw fit to destroy my simulation dome, electrocute my agents, and commandeer my monitors and lasers?"

"Before I answer that, I have a question for you," Tony's voice said. "Would _you_ care to explain exactly why _you_ saw fit to use _my_ simulation dome as a means to control us, lecture _my_ teammates even though they do their jobs_ flawlessly_, and commandeer _my_ cell phones and watch?"

Fury was, if you'll excuse the pun, furious. The worst part of it was, he knew Stark was right. Stark had no business being right. The man was bigheaded enough as it was. "That's simple, Stark," he said. He knew he was treading thin ice; but he'd had a bad day and simply didn't care any more. "You _need _control. You've gotten sloppy. _All_ of you. That last mission was a disaster. If no one continues to keep you in check, the world might stop considering you heroes, and they'll treat you like the menaces you're being right now."

"Sloppy, eh?" Tony said. "Natashalie," he said, turning to Natasha, who was standing next him, looking amused. "How about you show Fury how sloppy we really are."

Natasha blinked, then the corner of her mouth twitched. Without even looking at the window leading to the control room, she pulled a knife out of who knows where and with a twist of her wrist, it went flying through the air, going impossibly fast, and traveled the entire distance of the simulation dome. With a small thunk, it embedded itself in the inch-thick bullet-proof glass, sending cracks traveling throughout the window, the tip of the knife just protruding the glass, right in front of Fury's face.

"Listen up, Fury," Tony's voice came through the intercom. "You don't control The Avengers. We're not your employees. Right now, we just have an agreement of sorts. You handle the intel and the paperwork, and we let you give us tips on which threats you want eliminated before they hit you back too hard. Don't wreck it by playing boss. We're more than capable of running ourselves."

"Is that a threat?" Fury demanded.

"Only if you decide to make it one," Tony shot back without skipping a beat. "Don't forget exactly who it is you hired, Fury. You've got six extremely powerful superheroes, none of whom have always been on your side in the past. You've got Hawkeye and Black Widow, your one-time top agents. Didn't manage to keep hold of them. You've got a Norse god who wouldn't think twice about nailing you on the head with his fancy hammer if you say something against his mama. You've got me, the Merchant of Death. And you still haven't gotten rid of the Hulk cage, have you? That just shows how much you trust Bruce."

Next to him, Bruce chuckled. "They still haven't got rid of that thing?" He asked in amusement.

Tony smirked. "Nope," he said. "They've been trying to keep it hushed up. I let 'em think they were succeeding."

"Do you all second Stark's opinions?" Fury asked into the intercom. Whatever he was, Fury wasn't stupid. He knew what it could mean to lose the Avenger's allegiance. He needed to play it safe. Perhaps he had gotten too careless.

The Avengers all looked at each other, silently asking if they agreed.

It was actually Steve who spoke up, much to Fury's surprise.

"Director Fury, sir," he said. "I think I speak for all of us when I say that we're not trying to make an enemy out of SHIELD. That's the last thing we want. As long as we're both on the same side, it would be wiser for both of us if we worked together. I think that what Tony's trying to say, even if he's going about it the wrong way..."

Here, Tony smirked and looked pointedly at the Captain, who gave a small embarrassed smile in return before continuing to talk to Fury. "What he's trying to say," he repeated. "Is that SHIELD and the Avengers work together, as equals, we don't just follow you blindly."

Fury had to admit, the Captain had a way with words. He had managed to stand by his team and keep on SHIELD's good side at the same time, as well as diffusing a potential situation of outright rebellion that they had seemed to be heading towards.

Secretly, Fury was pleased. This was a team, a real team. They were no longer a squad of mismatched people who didn't work well together. They were a team who truly thought, spoke, and acted as one. Plus, Tony didn't seem to be too upset that the Captain had stepped up and spoken as the leader. In fact, if Fury was judging the expression on the billionaire's face correctly, Tony Stark was just as pleased as Fury himself was.

"Very well," Fury said. He needed to handle this right, but he also needed to maintain that he was the Director, and not someone to be toyed with. "Thank you Captain. I'm sorry you all feel that way. Now, since Stark decided to blow up _his_ simulation dome, there's no point in all of you staying here. Dismissed."

As the Avengers all left, Fury turned to his agents, who were all looking at him nervously. "Well!?" He demanded. "Get to work! We have to figure out how to regain control of the lasers and the security cameras. Johnson, call maintenance about the fire in the simulation dome. And will someone please get rid of that dancing zebra?!"

He turned and looked at the ruined jungle scene, sighing. It would take months to get it back to normal. He would have to reschedule all exercises until then.

He felt a smirk lift the corner of his mouth, but kept it well hidden from the agents in the room. Stark sure knew exactly how to get what he wanted.


	7. Company Secrets

Natasha Romanoff was not the type of person to get easily irritated at silly pranks or sarcastic comments. She had taught herself to be completely and utterly unfazed by anything anyone threw at her, and she found it silly that the others had all been brought down by Tony's "Starkasm" at all.

She would be a different story. Try as he might, Tony Stark would never get her to the point of sheer desperation that each of the other Avengers had fallen prey to. She liked to think she was an impenetrable fortress, entire armies could come at her with everything they had and she would remain unbroken.

But then Tony Stark found the one weak spot in her walls.

She really didn't know exactly how he'd found out about that particular weakness, she hadn't even known it existed herself. But it was there, and he exploited it.

And what is the legendary Black Widow's one weakness, you ask? Songs from animated fairy tales. Sung repeatedly. Over and over again. From 3:00 in the morning 'till noon two days later. With no reprieve.

Apparently, Tony hadn't been able to sleep on the night in question. So he'd decided to turn on the TV and Aladdin was playing. Without anything better to do, he'd watched it.

So Natasha, having trained to be a light sleeper so she could be up and about at a moments notice, woke up to the sound of Tony Stark singing quietly to himself as he passed her door.

"I can show you the world, take you wonder by wonder, over, sideways, and under on a magic carpet ride..."

"Stark," she said, stepping from her room and into the hallway outside. He turned and glanced at her, obviously not entirely there. "Hmm?" He asked. Natasha took a deep breath. "Why are you singing at 3 in the morning?"

"Huh? Oh!" He said, coming back down to earth from wherever his mind had been moments before. "It was just stuck in my head, that's all." He smirked. "Why, does it bother you?"

Natasha glared. "No," she lied automatically. But she saw the glint in the billionaire's eyes that showed her emotions had betrayed her. Stupid emotions.

"Oh, well then," Tony said, turning away and continuing his walk down the hall. "A whole new woooooorld, a dazzling place I never knew. No one to tell us no, or where to go, or say we're only dreaming..."

Natasha let out a deep breath and closed her door as the sound faded away down the hallway. She'd observed what had happened with the others, Tony was stubborn and relentless, he would push and push and push and push and push and push and push until he'd won and his opponent gave.

But not her. Never her. She had survived countless interrogations without so much as a single erratic heartbeat. She'd trained hard for four days straight without so much as a groan. She'd even killed countless people, loathe as she was to admit it, without a blink of her eye. She could survive Tony's petty attempts at teasing.

* * *

_"A dreeeaam is a wiiiiiish your heart maaaaakes... wheeen you're faaaast asleeeeeeeep..."_

Natasha woke up irritated, the song playing over the intercom in the tower. She'd been dreaming about magic carpets and genies and lamps since the encounter that morning, and "A Whole New World" had been playing in her head the whole time. She sighed as she rolled out of bed and began to get ready for the day. She could handle this.

* * *

_"Soooome daaaaaay, my prince will come, soooooome daaaaaay my prince will come..."_

Natasha looked up from her breakfast at Tony, who was singing along with the soundtrack in between bites of cereal, much to the confusion and irritation of the rest of the team.

"Tony, why are you playing that? Can't you turn it off?" Steve asked. Tony smirked. "Eh, it's just a song that's stuck in my head," he said. "It's totally harmless." Natasha ignored him and took a bite of cereal. No big deal.

* * *

_"There goes the baker with his tray like always, the same old bread and rolls to seeeeeell. Every morning just the same, as the morning that we came, to this poor provincial town, (good morning, Belle)..."_

Natasha pointedly ignored the music blaring into the training room as she practiced. She was fine.

* * *

_"I want to be where the people aaaaare... I want to see, want to see them dancing, walking around on those- what do you call 'em? Oh, feet. Flipping your fins, you don't get too faaaar... legs are required for jumping, dancing, strolling along down a- what's that word again? Streeeeeeeeet..."_

Natasha didn't even blink as she passed Tony in the hallway. He could go on all day.

* * *

_"And at last, I seeeee the liiiiiiiiiight, and it's like the world has shifted... and at last I seeeeee the liiiiiiiiiiiight, and it's like, I am maaade neeeeew and it's warm and real and briiiiiiiiight, and it's like the fog has liiiiiiiiiifted..."_

Natasha even so much as smirked at Tony across the lunch table. She would never give in.

* * *

_"So this is love, mmm hmm mmm hmm, so this is loooooove... So thiiiiiiis is what makes liiiiife diviiiiine... I'm all aglow, mmm hmm mmm hmm, and know I know...(and now I know) The keeeeey to all heaven is miiiiiiiiine..."_

Natasha felt a surge of annoyance at the echo. But she didn't show any form of annoyance. All of her training had prepared her for this.

* * *

_"I wondeeeer... I wondeeeer... I wondeeeer why eeeeach little biiiird has a someone... To siiiiiing toooo... sweeeet thiiiiings tooooo... A liiiiiight little looooove melodyyyyyy-yyyyyyyy..."_

Natasha skipped dinner, she was alone, so she could have released some of this irritation, but she couldn't be sure JARVIS wouldn't rat her out, so she ignored the song.

* * *

_"Waaaatch aaaand you'll seeeeeeeeeeeeeee, someday I'll beeeeeeeeeeeee... paaaaart oooof yoooour wooooooooooooooooooooooorld!"_

Natasha rolled over and looked at the clock, it was 2:49 in the morning. This had been going on for a whole 24 hours. How long would Tony last?

* * *

_"Yoooooooour motheeeer and miiiiiiiiiiiiine... yooooooooooour motheeeeeer and miiiiiiiiiiiiiine. What makes mothers all that they aaaaaaaaare, might as well ask, what maaaaaakes a staaaaaaar..."_

The rest of the Avengers had found out what was going on, and now as they all sat around eating breakfast, they were silent, glancing between Tony and Natasha, snickering. It added an extra pinch of annoyance to the situation, but it just made her resolve stronger. She would come out on top.

* * *

_"Wheeeen Youuu wiiiish upoooon a staaaaar, maaaaakes nooooo differeeeence whoooo yooooou aaaaaare. Anythiiiiing yooooour heaaaart desiiiiired will cooooooooooome tooooooooooooo yooooooooooooooou..."_

This could go on forever, Natasha would. Not. Crack.

* * *

_"Ever just the saaaaaaame, ever a surpriiiiiiiiiiiise, ever as before, everr just as sure, as the sun will riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiise..."_

Natasha rolled her eyes. This was getting tedious. But she still wasn't giving up.

* * *

_"She's always try'n ta get me to play dress up, she's always flirting with the palace guards. I think you really sorta like her, 'fess up! I'd like her better if she'd lose at cards. Four sevens and a ten. I think I've won again. Every time she's woooooooon. This is my idea (This isn't our idea) of fun!"_

This song was being sung from three different points of view. If Natasha had admitted to listening, she would have been able to tell you that it was sung from the point of view of a prince and a princess whose parents were trying to get them together, and the prince's young friend. But she wasn't listening. Natasha wouldn't listen to Tony's songs.

* * *

_"Neeeeeeew, and a bit, alarmiiiiing, who'd have ever thooooought thaaaaaaat thiiiiiiiiiis coooooould beeeeeee. Truuuuuuuue, that he's no prince charmiiiiiiiing, but there's something in him that I simply didn't seeeeeeeee..."_

Natasha's eye twitched involuntarily. For a second, she was stunned. She never showed a sign of weakness. Ever. Tony smirked and raised his eyebrows, as the song continued. Natasha recovered quickly. How had she let slip? She would have to try harder.

* * *

_"IIIIIIIIII knooooooooooooooow yoooooooooou I walked with you ooooooonce upooooooon a dreeeeeeeeeeeeam, IIIIIIIIIII knooooooooow yooooooooooou that gleam in your eeeeeyes is sooooo familiar a gleam..."_

It had gotten to the point where the rest of the Avengers were severely annoyed at the music, and they kept trying to get her to slip up and let Tony win. But she was stronger than them. She would not break.

* * *

_"Shalalalalala my oh my, looks like the boy too shy, ain't gonna... kiss the girl. Shalalala ain't that sad, ain't it a shame, too bad, he's gonna... miss the girl."_

Natasha, who was training in the training room, hit the bag so hard that her wrist jolted in pain. As she examined it to see if there were any injuries, she almost welcomed the diversion.

* * *

_"Robin Hood and Little John, walkin' through the forest, laughin' back an' forth at what the other'n had to say... reminiscin' this-n'-that'n havin' such a good time, Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly what a day..."_

"What happened to your hand?" Bruce asked her. "Nothing," she said. "Just a little training mishap. It's fine, nothing a little gauze won't fix."

"Oh," Bruce said. "Well, golly, what a day, huh?"

She glared as he went on his way. If he wasn't so invincible, she would murder him right now.

* * *

_"I have a dream! (She has a dream!) I have a dream! (She has a dream!) I just wanna see the floating lanterns gleeeeeam, and with every passing hour, I'm so glad I left my tower! Like all you lovely folks I have a dream... (She has a dream, she has a dream, she has a dream) Yes, way down deep inside I have a dreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeam!"_

Natasha, in a moment of shameful weakness, reached up and covered her ears, but the music was too loud to drown out. This. Was. Without a doubt. The worst torture she had ever gone through.

* * *

_"The sweeeeeeetest souuunds I'll eeeeeever heeeeear, are stiiiiiill insiiiiiiide my heaaaaaad... the kindeeeest wooooords I'll eeeeeever knooooow, are waaaaaiting toooooo be saaaaaid..."_

Natasha strode through the halls, burdened with glorious purpose, the music blaring through the loudspeaker as she walked. Not the best music for the mood, but still.

_"The moooooost entraaaaaancing siiiiiiight of aaaaaall, is yeeeeet for meeeee to seeeeeee, and the dearest loooooove in aaaaaall the wooooorld, is waaaaaiting somewheeeeeere for meeeee, is waiting somewheeeeeere..."_

She had everything ready, she had never given up in her life, if she was going to go out, it would be with style.

_"sooooomewheeeeeere foooooor meeeeee..."_

She turned the corner and skipped over the stairs, vaulting herself over the railing instead and freefalling until the last floor. Then she caught hold of another railing and swung for a moment before letting go and dropping to the floor with ease.

She could see him, she could see him through the glass on the door, his back was turned to her, and he appeared to be asleep. She felt the corner of her mouth turn up into a small smile. Good, she would wake him up.

"JARVIS, if you know what's good for you, you will open this door," she said. She had the capabilities to get in on her own, but she decided to give the AI a chance to defect first.

"Very well, Agent Romanoff," came the reluctant voice of the AI as the door slid open.

She stalked into the room and glanced at Tony, who was, in fact, asleep, his head on a cluttered desk as if he had fallen asleep while working.

Slowly, silently, with all the skill of a trained assassin, she lifted her hand, her gun, pointing it at her target. Her favorite gun, nothing but the best for this mission. No remorse, no guilt, not even a blink of her eye, a flawless kill, just as it had always been.

She pulled the trigger.

Tony jerked awake at the sound of the bang, and he let out a small gasp of surprise. Then he saw Natasha standing over him. He smiled.

She smiled back. Everything was quiet. Blessed silence rang in her head. She had gone insane from the music, she knew it. Never before had she given up, and it felt so much better than she thought it would.

"I win," Tony said, getting up and walking over to where the mp3 player was plugged into the speaker. The destroyed mp3 player and speaker, that is. A bit of smoke rose up from a few exposed wires and the mp3 player was shattered into a million tiny pieces. With all the skill of a true assassin, Natasha had shot it straight through the center.

"You win," she admitted. "And if I ever hear even the faintest shred of music coming from the intercom again, I will destroy much more than a simple mp3 player. Got it?"

Tony smiled. "Got it," he said. Then he held out his hand. "You were by far my worthiest opponent," he said. "You made it much farther than I would have guessed."

"Thank you," She said with a smile, shaking his hand. "And you are a true master of torture. Have you ever considered giving lessons to the wannabes we capture on a daily basis?"

"Nah," he said with a small laugh. "There are a few company secrets Stark Industries doesn't release to the general public. The ability to successfully break the world's best spy is one of them."

* * *

_And now time for the bulky disclaimer section! Well, here goes. I do not own Disney's Aladdin. I do not own Disney's Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. I do not own Disney's Cinderella. I do not own Disney's Beauty and the Beast. I do not own Disney's The Little Mermaid. I do not own Disney's Tangled. I do not own Disney's Sleeping Beauty. I do not own Disney's Peter Pan. I do not own Disney's Pinocchio. I do not own The Swan Princess (and neither does Disney). I do not own Disney's Robin Hood. I do not own Roger's and Hammerstein's Cinderella. Also, disclaimers for a few previous chapters: I do not own Lipton Tea. I do not own McDonalds. I do not own Pepsi. I do not own Coca-Cola. And, finally, and perhaps most importantly, I do not own a Psych coffee mug with a picture of James Roday as Shawn Spencer in his typical finger-to-temple vision pose with an inscription on the cup reading "I've heard it both ways." Yet. My sister is going to get me one for Christmas. But until then, I do not own it._

_P.S. this story and disclaimer was written a few months ago, but I waited to post it becuase I wanted to do Fury's chapter first. I would just like to say... my sister gave me that mug for Christmas. It's awesome. I held my finger up to my temple and made my "I got a clue" face while I was unwrapping it. So, I do own a Psych coffee mug with a picture of James Roday as Shawn Spencer in his typical finger-to-temple vision pose with an inscription on the cup reading "I've heard it both ways." I just didn't want to take it out of the disclaimer because it was funny._


	8. Hide and Seek

_Author's notes: Sorry it took so long to update, I simply could not figure out what to do for this chapter. But, I finally got inspired, so here you go! Also, I still haven't seen any of the Iron Man movies, so I'm not entirely sure how accurate this chapter will be. If there are any blatant mistakes, please point them out, and I will do my best to fix them. As for Happy's character, having never seen the movies or read the comics, I had not a single clue as towards his character, but I have him written as anxious not because I think he always is, but because of the situation in this chapter. Pleaseexcuse any obvious character inconsistencies, I practically had to treat him as an OC simply because I have no idea who he really is._

* * *

Pepper Potts had known Tony Stark for years. She had worked as a secretary for a secretary for a secretary when he took over the company at 25, and then, two years later, she had been noticed by Obadiah Stane, who promoted her to head secretary to reward her for her efficiency and hard work. After working in that position for two and a half years, Tony had fired yet another PA (or his PA had quit, no one was ever entirely sure which side of the story was more accurate), and Obadiah had recommended Pepper for the job. She gladly accepted, despite the horror stories she had heard about the young Billionaire's personal life, and she never regretted it.

Well, she almost never regretted it. There were a few times when she wished she had made a different choice, when she wondered where she would be if she had declined the offer. But she hadn't, and there was no going back now, and she really did enjoy her job.

Then she had worked as his PA for five years, setting a new record for his personal assistants, the last record being seven months. During those five years, she and Tony developed a mutual friendly acquaintance, having an unspoken truce of sorts. She would do her job as well as she could while simultaneously staying out of his personal affairs (a very fine line to walk as it is, as her job _was_ to be involved in his personal affairs) and he would make things easy on her by showing up for meetings on time, handling all the business he needed to, and maintaining an employer/employee relationship with her.

Then the whole Afghanistan thing happened, and she had gone for three months as a personal assistant without someone to assist. That had been hard. Even though the two of them weren't good friends, they had worked together for five years, and she rather liked him as a person once you looked past the annoying habits and disrespectful attitude.

When he returned from his imprisonment, outlandish rumors and tabloid stories surrounding the whole business like flies, he was changed. She noticed it immediately, of course. It was her job to notice it. Then he made the announcement to stop selling weapons, at that historical news conference. The whole thing with Obadiah happened, and Tony changed again.

He was still the same old Tony Stark, he still snarked at reporters and business associates alike, he still did what he wanted when he wanted unless she told him not to, and he still spent most of his time in his lab, blaring music as loud as humanly possible.

But he was... sweeter, almost (boy, would she be fired if he knew she thought of him as sweet). There was a tenderness about him now that hadn't been there before. It was almost imperceptible. If she hadn't been trained to see it, she might have missed it completely.

He had been hurt, and it had left scars much worse and much less noticeable than the Arc Reactor in his chest.

Six months later, and Tony changed again. But this time, the change wasn't better. This time, he changed for the worst. He reverted, if you will, to before he had ever built the suit. And she didn't even know why.

That was very hard on Pepper. When she found out the reason behind it, it did not make her feel better. In fact, for awhile, she felt hurt. She felt hurt that Tony wouldn't even tell her he was dying. Did she really mean that little to him?

In time (not very much time at all, really) she forgave him, but after that, there was always that lingering bit of doubt, that one small whispering question in her head, did he trust her? If he ever found himself in such a situation again, would he trust her enough to tell her? Or would she always find out after the fact, with the promise of an omelet and a nonchalant dismissal as to the importance of the now-unthreatening horror he had lived through, almost died of?

And then, of course, he had gone on to fight the Chitauri, and as she watched the news report of Tony, her Tony, flying the missile into the black hole, her world had ended. And when she saw him fly back out at the last second, she had breathed again. And when he was falling, falling, not flying, she felt the world end a second time. And then he was caught, he was safe, he was alive, and once again, she breathed again.

She saw the missed call and although her heart broke that she hadn't answered, for once in her life, she hadn't answered her phone, she inwardly smiled as well.

He had called her. He had believed he was going to die, and he had called her. No omelet, no excuse, he had tried. She breathed easy for the first time since she had found out about the palladium, because she knew. She knew now that he trusted her. She knew now that he cared.

Not that it stopped him from messing things up or from trying his hand at pranking her, oh no. It just made her a little more lenient when he tried.

Usually.

"JARVIS, where is he!?" She demanded angrily into her earpiece, walking quickly to where Happy was waiting anxiously in front of the building, car all ready to take her where she said.

He took one look at her face and turned to face front, and Pepper noted with some satisfaction that she must look pretty fierce to accomplish that.

"Sir is currently in his workshop," JARVIS informed her coolly.

Pepper sighed. "Awake or asleep?" She asked as she stepped into the back of the car. "Home," she said to Happy, who nodded without even turning around and began to drive. If Tony had been up all night and had crashed, she would still have to scold him, of course, but she understood that he did that sometimes.

"Awake," Came the reply, and Pepper huffed in annoyance. So he was awake, and still had not followed through with their plans. True, it had not been something particularly important, just an event, a small exhibit opening in the art museum, and he was supposed to be there to show support for the arts, and he'd flaked.

And he'd been so responsible lately. She could hardly imagine what could have happened to cause him to be so careless...

Wait.

"Thank you, JARVIS," she said. "I understand."

"Very well, ms. Potts," the AI said. "You are perceptive, as usual."

Not for nothing had Pepper put up with Tony's impulsiveness for the past nine years to not notice and deduct the pattern happening here.

1. He had failed to show up for a scheduled meeting and he hadn't answered her calls, and Happy was very pointedly not looking at her.

2. The rest of her evening had been relatively clear, Tony had begged that they have a "night off" after the event, and she had grudgingly obliged, rescheduling the rest of her plans to accommodate.

3. The event had been such where she had dressed not casually, but not black-tie either, so she was wearing a rather lovely cocktail dress, perfect for a party of some kind.

Inwardly, Pepper smiled mischievously. Tony was planning a party. Her birthday wasn't for another few months, but she knew that Tony was the kind of person to plan a surprise party long before the actual date, because it would be way too easy to guess suspicious behavior if you knew the reason for celebration. It was hardly a challenge then.

When Happy pulled up in front of the building and handed the limo keys to a valet instead of parking it himself, she knew she had guessed correctly.

"Happy, what are you doing?" Pepper asked, narrowing her eyes at the already-uncomfortably anxious chauffeur. "I'm going up to see Tony, why do you think you should come with me?"

"Um, er," Happy said. "Because... because Tony said he wanted to talk to me when I got back, so I might as well come up now."

"Ah," Pepper said. "Very well."

Entering the lobby, she went past and stepped into the elevator. "Floor 87, please," she said.

"Um..." Happy said nervously as the elevator started moving. "JARVIS said in the limo that Tony would be in his workshop..."

Pepper almost cracked a smile at Happy's slip. If JARVIS had truly alerted the chauffeur as to Tony's whereabouts, he would have phrased his statement in the present tense, "JARVIS said in the limo that Tony_ is in_ the workshop." The way it was phrased as it was, implied that Happy had been given prior instructions as to where to find Tony once he arrived, not merely received instruction as to Tony's current location on the way over.

"He'll have to come to me, then," Pepper said. The fact that Happy had been given prior instructions to bring Pepper to the _workshop_ also gave clues as to Tony's real plans. He knew Pepper very well, and he knew that she knew him more than anyone else knew him, so he therefore knew that she would figure out that he was planning a party for her.

He would know that she would become suspicious of JARVIS and Happy, and would be likely to do the exact opposite of what she figured he would do. That was why she was going to floor 87 instead of the Penthouse. The real party would be in the Penthouse, not the workshop, and Happy's instructions to bring Pepper to the workshop were in place not because Happy would be able to deliver, but because he couldn't. If Pepper had gone along with Happy, they would have both found the workshop empty, and Happy would have been the one truly surprised.

Pepper stepped off on floor 87, the R&D department, and walked briskly through the floor towards the service elevators, Happy trailing along behind her in a panic.

Despite her convictions that the real party would be in the Penthouse, there was a reason Pepper hadn't gone down to the workshop just to spite Tony. There was always the chance that Tony would have figured out that she would figure out that the real party was in the Penthouse, and he might bank on the fact that she would go down to the workshop anyway, and so have the party set up in the workshop instead, so that she would still walk into a party.

Stepping into the service elevators, Pepper pressed the button for floor 26 and waited for Happy to step in beside her. His worry was replaced with confusion and curiosity, but he remained silent.

The service lift went down to floor 26 and the doors opened, Pepper being admitted to the main security floor.

"Hello, Ron," she said to the Chief of Security. "How's Kippie?" Kippie was Ron's two year-old daughter, who had recently come down with a slight head cold. Although the situation wasn't serious, it was Ron and his wife's first child, and so they had been particularly attentive to young Kippie's health.

"She's just fine now, Ms. Potts," Ron said with a smile. "Doc said there's no problems, just normal baby stuff."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it," She said with a bright smile of her own. "Anyway, Ron, I'm down here in security to handle a few things, you can come watch to make sure it doesn't open any major security breaches."

"Yes, Ms. Potts," Ron said, following Pepper and Happy towards a computer terminal in the back of the room.

Reaching it, Pepper began typing out security codes, accessing the cameras to ascertain where the party was (it was in the Penthouse, like she'd thought, but the workshop was completely sealed off; she wouldn't have been able to get inside and wait even if she had tried) and then cutting out the heat sensors and heart-rate monitors in the corridors and main floors, thus cutting off Tony's ability to discover where she was in the building if he asked.

Those functions already didn't work in the service lifts and in the security rooms, so she was reasonably certain that if Tony had asked, he wouldn't be able to pinpoint her exact location.

She knew that he knew that she was in the building, so if he asked JARVIS her location and JARVIS answered with he didn't know, Tony would automatically know that she was in either the service lifts or the security rooms, and that was where he would look first.

Because it was never just a maze with Tony, it was hide and seek. Pepper only had a few more seconds before Tony gave up the head start and began using JARVIS to seek her out, and if he got her on camera before she made it to her goal, than he would win the game.

That was why she had used the lift from floor 87, and that was why she had chosen the security lift on floor 26. The R&D department was big enough that Tony would figure she would try to sneak through one of the unimportant floors, like the sublet office floors, rather that the floor that needed the most security cameras anyway. Same with the main security office. He would think that she would go to one of the little ones on the other floors, one of the offices that only had charge of one or two departments, rather than the main office that monitored the entire building, including the other security offices.

Now that she was unable to be tracked, she could move freely through the main floors without him knowing which floor she was on.

"Thank you, Ron," she said, turning and smiling at him. "Tell Maryanne hello for me!"

"I will," Ron said. "And thanks for the get-well-soon flowers, Maryanne loved them."

"You're welcome," Pepper said before leaving the office, still followed by Happy.

"Happy, I've got a job for you," she said.

"Yes, Ms. Potts?" Happy asked warily, still somewhat bemused by all this.

"I want you to run down to the workshop and tell Tony to meet me up in the Penthouse," She said.

"Yes, Ms. Potts," Happy said, before going and leaving in one of the elevators. Pepper smiled. Happy would attempt to gain access to the workshop, thus alerting Tony of a "security risk," the setup he had made to catch Pepper in the act had she attempted to enter it herself. With any luck, he would believe that she was still under the impression that she thought the party to be in the workshop and was trying to get in now that she had cut off tracking, but that was unlikely. As soon as he had reviewed the security footage revealing which elevator she had used and then found which floor it had stopped at, he would see that she had discovered the location of the party.

Still, it would buy some time, which was what Pepper had hoped to accomplish.

Setting off at a brisk walk, she stepped into the secondary lifts for the floor, going up to floor 49, the human resources department.

She cut through the department and walked to another set of lifts, this time going down to floor 34, and from there, the primary lifts to floor 52.

She was doing this because Tony would know to monitor the elevators on each floor, and although he was certain to be watching the primary elevator heading all the way from floor 26 down to the workshop, both stops being relatively high profile floors, there were elevators all over the tower, with people using them literally every few minutes. He would have no way of knowing which elevator she was on, and no elevator would be traveling straight up to the Penthouse.

Finally, she stepped off a lift three floors down from the Penthouse, removed her high-heels, tucked them safely into her shoulder bag and pressed the button for it to continue up to the floor directly beneath the Penthouse. Tony would very likely check that elevator out, just to be safe, as it came so very close.

Then Pepper did something unconventional.

She walked over to the back of the floor and stepped into the Stark Tower staircase.

She considered herself to be very physically fit, with all the daily running around that she did, it came naturally. It didn't take her very long to run up the last four flights of stairs, counting seconds in her head as she did so.

Tony would have checked the elevator that came close, and, finding it empty, would have retraced it back to the last floor it had stopped at. That would have taken around 7 seconds, 5 for the lift to travel, and 2 for him to find it's last docking point.

Then, he would have monitored all the other lifts, including the service lifts, while doing a security footage sweep of the entire floor, to make sure she did not use the lifts and was not simply lurking around the floor. That would have taken around 15 seconds, 25 counting all the closets and large cupboards that particular floor contained, one of the reasons she'd chosen it.

He then would have begun hacking into the cameras in the staircase, it being the last place she could be, and he would flicker the cameras upwards until they either caught up with her or hit the ceiling. 2.5 seconds for each floor.

She had already been running for 30 seconds, the back door to the Penthouse in view. It would take her another 6 seconds to reach it, and another 6 to activate the security access allowing her to enter the Penthouse. By her calculations, the door would shut mere milliseconds before the camera showed it, and she would be in the clear.

Reaching the door, she panted breathlessly as she typed the passcode with her right hand and held her left thumb out to be scanned. "Virginia Pepper Potts," she said out loud, unlocking the name key and voice recognition sequence. The scan came up clear as did her passcode, and she stepped into the floor, shutting the door behind her quickly.

Slipping her shoes back on, she set her bag down and walked through the second door, leading into the Penthouse.

The room was like she had seen it on the security footage, the decorations were elegant and yet fun, there was a table spread with only her favorite things to eat, there was a small pile of brightly wrapped gifts on another table, and aside from Tony and the other Avengers, there were only a few people there, only people she considered "real" friends. Her publicized party in a few months, she knew would include a guest list of very important figures she would have to impress all night. This was a party for family and friends.

No one noticed her entrance, however, as they were all staring up at a single holographic screen. Tony stood directly in front of it, hands hovering over a StarkPad, staring up at the image in concentration. Everyone else huddled around, those close enough to see over Tony's shoulder frowning in concentration at the data on the small screen, those without the privilege searching the larger screen with determination.

"I don't understand," Tony said. "I thought I had her! I thought for sure she would've taken the stairs!"

"Maybe she went down a flight first to psych you out," Bruce suggested, being one of the few looking at the tablet in Tony's hands. "Then she would have been following the camera, not running from it."

Huh. Smart idea. She would have to remember that next time something like this happened.

"Or maybe," She said, causing everyone to jump and turn around, startled. "Maybe I'm faster than you thought."

"Pepper!" Tony said with a grin. "You never cease to surprise me."

He walked over to her and held his arms out, and she met him halfway, smiling innocently before-

SLAP

Tony blinked. "Um, ow." he said, putting his hand up to where she had slapped him on the cheek. "Why would you do that?"

"Because, Mr. Stark," she said. "You had an appointment an hour and a half ago, and you skipped out on it! Explain."

Tony looked at her. "Uh," he said, holding his arms out to indicate the decorations, snacks, presents and friends surrounding them. "Party. You. Birthday. Surprise! Get it?"

"Your attempted gesture at a party aside, you do NOT fail to show up for another scheduled meeting, or event, or gala, or banquet, _again_. Is that clear?"

Everyone in the room looked suddenly uncomfortable, as if they weren't so sure this was a good idea anymore, but Tony grinned cheekily. "Got it," he said. "No more surprise parties."

"Now, I didn't exactly say that," Pepper said, grinning herself before turning to the other guests. "Thank you for putting up with this clown," she said, nodding her head towards Tony. "And thank you for attending this party, although I personally did not receive an invitation..." Here again, she looked at Tony pointedly. "Now that that's over, let's all just try and enjoy ourselves."

As everyone began to talk and Tony and Pepper walked over to join them, Pepper leaned in and whispered in his ear "Try as you might, You will never win against _me_, you know."

Tony smiled back. "A guy can try, can't he?"


	9. Invincible

His head hurt. It hurt real bad. It felt like somebody had smacked him really hard with a hammer. Not that Tony had experience in being hit on the head with a hammer, but this was how he imagined it felt like.

_"Ironman, what happened? Come in, Ironman. Tony?"_

Well, that was weird. There was some sort of voice speaking in his ear. Was somebody whispering in his ear? Nah, it sounded too... normally pitched. Was there a tiny person in his ear, yelling to get his attention? No, that was even sillier, people couldn't just shrink to the size of an ant or a wasp or something.

_"Hawkeye, what happened, did you see him go down?"_

_"Yeah, I'm on my way over there now."_

Huh. The weird voice in his ear was actually two weird voices. And they were talking with each other.

But he had more important issues to be dealing with. Mainly, the pressure he was feeling on his head, where the hammer had hit him.

_"Ironman,"_ the first voice said again. _"Ironman, can you hear me? Respond!"_

Well, that didn't make any sense. How was he supposed to respond to a voice in his ear?

_"How is he, Hawkeye?"_

_"He's definitely down. The side of his helmet's bashed in, whatever that thing is, it's strong. It must have broke through the armor."_

Something had broken somebody's armor? That wasn't good. They ought to get that checked.

_"Yes, but how is Ironman?" _The first voice sounded frustrated.

_"I'm not sure,"_ the second voice said. _"His Reactor's still glowing, but his eyes are off and he's not moving. I think the suit's been deactivated somehow."_

Okay, that was just strange. How could somebody's eyes be off? Whoever this voice was, it was crazy.

But, then again...

Tony tried to open his eyes. They felt open, they really did, but he couldn't see anything. Everything was pitch black. Dark, and stuffy. Maybe his eyes were off.

_"Alright, so he's still alive,"_ the frustrated voice said. _"Try to get his faceplate off, get him some fresh air."_

The pain in his head flared up, like the hammer was back with a vengeance and a few buddies. He let out a small moan.

_"I can't do it,"_ the voice said. _"Thor, a little help here?"_

_"I am on my way,"_ said a deep booming voice that coincided with a particularly nasty clang of pain in his head._ "As soon as I smite this beast! It is almost vanquished!"_

_"Hurry,"_ said the second voice. Now he sounded frustrated as well.

After a moment of foreverness, the pain in his head intensified for a few seconds, and then suddenly, there was light.

Fresh air hit his face and Tony looked up in a daze. There were two people standing over him. One of them was blonde and wore a lot of black, and he had one of those thingies in his hand. Harp? No, he was pretty sure harps had more than one string. No, this was some kind of weapon.

"Tony, are you alright? Can you hear me?" He said, looking at Tony's eyes and shining a bright light in them, making him squint.

The thing that wasn't a harp fell to the ground with a clang. It was a weapon, he was sure of it. One of those thingies that you stuck pointy sticks in, and then shot them at people "Like a ssslingshot," he drawled.

The guy frowned. Tony turned his attention to the other person. A big muscley guy wearing a helmet and some curtains. He was holding some kind of weapon, after a moment, Tony realized that it was some weird kind of hammer. "You," he said, frowning at the thing. "Tell yer frien's to knock it off."

"Guy's, he's awake, but definitely concussed," the guy with the slingshot said. With a start, Tony realized that the voice in his ear said the same thing at the exact same time, and it sounded just like the guy with the slingshot.

"Whoa..." He said, looking up at the guy, his eyes wide. "They're twinss..."

The guy wearing curtains frowned. "What is his meaning?" He asked the guy with the slingshot, who shrugged.

"I don't know," he said. "Maybe he's seeing double?"

Something clicked in Tony's mind, and suddenly he realized who he was talking to. "...Clint?" He asked slowly.

Clint jumped. "Tony!" He said. "Tony, can you hear me?"

Tony frowned. "...Yeah..." he said.

Clint let out a breath of relief. "Alright," he said. "What's your full name?"

Tony frowned in confusion. Didn't Clint remember? "Tony Stark," he said.

"Well, yeah, but do you remember the rest of it?" Clint asked.

Tony nodded. "Anthony... Edward Stark," he said.

"That's right," Clint said. "Now, where are you?"

Tony looked around. "...Outside?" He asked.

Clint frowned. "Okay," he said. "I'm almost afraid to ask the next question. Do you remember what happened?"

"Uuuum..." Really, all he remembered was waking up feeling like he'd been hit on the head with a baseball bat. "A pinata?"

Clint looked worried. "Close enough," he said. Then another man ran up, holding something that looked like a shield. Really? A shield, a helmet, and a... bow and arrow!

"'sss there a medieval fair 'roun here or sssomethin'?"

The man with the shield frowned. "Tony," he said. His voice matched the frustrated one he'd heard earlier. "Do you know your full name?"

"I already asked him the questions," Clint said. "And I shined my light in his eyes. It's a concussion, no doubt about it."

Then it clicked who was holding the shield. "Cap?" He asked. "'sss tha' you?"

Steve frowned. "Yes," he said. "Yeah, it's me, Tony."

A woman ran up then and stood next to Thor. "...Tasha?" He asked. Then he did a double take. "Thor!? When'd you ge' here?"

"I have been here the whole time, friend Tony," Thor said.

Tony frowned. "...Oh yeah."

"Let's get him back to the tower," Natasha said. "Bruce, you back?" The second part of her sentence echoed in his ear, sounding staticy. Wait, that must've been his radio... Yeah, now that made sense.

_"Just woke up,"_ Bruce's voice said over the radio. _"What's up?"_

"We're heading back to the tower," Steve said into his radio. It was so weird, hearing the same thing twice. "Tony got hit. It doesn't seem too serious, just a bad concussion, but we're heading back now. Meet us there."

There was silence over the radio for a second, then _"...Got it. I'm on my way."_

"Tony, you gotta stay awake," He heard somebody say.

Huh. He hadn't realized he was sleepy. "Jussst a quick nap..." He pleaded.

"No, you gotta stay awake." It was Cap who was speaking.

"Heh..." Tony said. "You can' tell me wha' to do..."

For a second, he saw Cap give a half smile. Then everything went dark again.

* * *

A steady beeping had been making its way into Tony's head for quite awhile now, along with a strange sound like the murmuring of ghostly spirits, although he had been so out of it he hadn't realized that he'd been hearing anything at all.

Finally, it registered that he was, in fact, hearing it, and then, after a few more moments, it clicked in his head what that noises were.

The murmurs were people talking somewhere, and the beeping was a heart monitor.

He was hooked up to a heart monitor?

Then it clicked that if he was hooked up to a heart monitor, he must be in a hospital of some sort. Well, that was just great. Tony hated hospitals.  
Then he remembered why he was in a hospital, and groaned as he managed to open his eyes.

That immediately got the attention of everyone in the room, and Bruce stood up. "Tony?" he asked, and the worry on his face was so familiar now that it was funny. "Are you in any pain?"

"No," Tony said automatically, and then stopped to think about it. "No," he decided. "I just really hate waking up in hospitals being stared at by soldiers, scientists, circus performers, assassins and demigods." He paused and tilted his head. "Wow, that sounds even more ridiculous now that I've said it out loud. When can I leave?"

Bruce smiled his trademark half-smile. "It's good to have you back, Tony," he said.

"Which brings me to my next question: Where was I, exactly?" Tony asked. "I mean, what happened? How long have I been out?"

"That was actually three questions," Cap said with a laugh.

"Well, then, answer them in whichever order seems best to you," he said with a wave of his hand.

"You've only been out for a few hours," Bruce said. "Pepper's on her way here."

"Oh, good," Tony said. "She can meet me on the way out."

"You're not going anywhere," Clint said, and Tony sighed.

"Come on," he said. "Hospitals bug me."

"It doesn't matter," Natasha said. "You're staying."

Tony moaned in defeat, at the same time feeling a strange sense of peace in him that he didn't understand. He hated hospitals, he always felt... exposed in hospitals. Vulnerable. Open to attack. And here he was only fighting half-heartedly, giving up too easily. Why?

It must be because he felt... protected, with the team there. He looked around; Bruce was still standing nearby, smiling his somewhat-nervous half-smile, ready to surrender control to the Hulk if need be. Clint lounged in one of the uncomfortable chairs, but his body posture was such that he could be standing and loosing arrows in a second. Steve sat in the other chair, tall and mighty, in all his Captain America glory. While the sight would once have brought back memories of Tony's dad, and of growing up in the shadow of a man he'd never met, now he realized it brought out a feeling of camaraderie, and a sense of security he hadn't ever realized he'd wanted. He knew that as long as Cap was in the room, he would be safe.

And then there was Thor and Natasha. Thor, well, Tony couldn't help but like the big guy. His ever-present smile and his have-at-thee manner, mixed with his general cluelessness and his jovial spirit made him a joy to be around, and he was strong enough and skilled enough to protect Tony from anything. And then there was Natasha. Creepy ninja lady who could kill him in the blink of an eye and yet, hadn't done it yet. If that wasn't restraint, he didn't know what was. He still didn't trust her motives, not completely. It wasn't anything against her, he knew it wasn't personal, but he just needed a little more time. "Fool me once," as the saying went. He was forever on his guard to the best of people; he wasn't sure he would ever trust someone who had lied to him before.

But it was a work in progress, and Tony suddenly realized why he felt so strangely at ease this time. Because he truly trusted his life to these people. That was... new, to say the least.

"So, been out for a few hours, that's... surprisingly, not the first time." Tony paused to consider this. "Anyway, I'm still a little unclear on the why. What happened again?"

"Don't you remember, Tony?" Natasha asked.

"No, actually, I don't," he said. "Last thing I remember before waking up here was my helmet being broken."

"Yeah, that's what happened," Clint supplied. "But do you remember anything else, about the fight maybe?"

Tony sighed. "I'm not sure how clear I have to be to get you to understand," he said. "I don't remember... anything about the fight. All I remember is waking up for a second with a pounding in my head."

"Well, that's not good," Bruce noted with a sigh. "Anyway, it was a pretty simple fight, a giant robotic monster tried to take out the city, we stopped it just in time, only it got a pretty powerful hit to your head before it went down."

"Just my luck," Tony sighed. "And now I'm trapped in a hospital room with nothing to do, being held against my will. Which brings me back, again, to an earlier question, when can I leave?"

Steve chuckled. "As soon as Pepper gets here, we'll try to get the doc to sign you out," he said. "He already said it wasn't that bad of a blow to your head, so you should be fine as long as you take it slow for the next few days."

"Ah," Tony protested with a grimace. "I don't do slow. I'll take his advice, and skip a board meeting or two, but really, that whole 'taking it slow' thing is just ridiculous."  
"Tony, you need to rest in order to heal," Bruce tried with about the same enthusiasm that Tony had displayed about staying in the hospital: half-hearted.

"Correction; the common layman needs rest in order to heal," Tony said. "Trust me, I've had worse. It's always just fine with a cup of coffee and some AC/DC."

Bruce sighed and Natasha rolled her eyes, while Clint snickered and Thor asked Steve what AC/DC was, to which Steve replied that he hadn't the foggiest idea.

Tony smirked and laid back down on his pillow, looking up at the ceiling. Even when he was down, he still had his trusty ol' wit and Starkasm to fall back on.

And the world would never be rid of it.

_**THE END**_

* * *

Author's Notes: Well, that marks the end of this story. I wanted to include this chapter for two reasons. 1; because I love me some Tony!whump, and 2; because I wanted there to be a chapter in which Tony realizes that the Avengers are more than a team to him now.

I want to thank everybody who left reviews throughout this story, and everybody who followed it or favorited it. I'm glad you all liked my story, I had a lot of fun writing it. I also want to potentially thank anybody who is going to read this and who will review or favorite this later. Thanks, guys! It means a lot to me, even still. XD

Although this is the end of Starkasm, keep your eyes open. I'll be posting a new story very soon, which will be much different than this one, but hopefully, just as good or better. While this was more a humor/friendship fic, the next story will be a futuristic angsty adventure drama with quite a few friendship themes thrown in. All in all, be ready for an epic tale of awesomeness, coming soon to a website near you.


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